"Eww!" Laughing, she popped the last corner of her sandwich into her mouth, her tongue swiping a hint of strawberry from her lips.
Words fell out but he lost track of them. "Rabbit eyeballs are a great source of iodine."
Remnants of laughter painting her eyes jewel tones, she sucked jelly off the tip of one of her fingers. "You can't throw me off the track with gross-out stories, Danny Baker. Although I gotta confess, now it's tough to think about kissing your mouth."
"Did you want to before?"
Crap. Shut the yap, Baker. The woman might have a backbone of steel, but she needed time to get over the hell McRae had put her through. Having to fend off someone who should damn well be protecting her wasn't honorable.
Mary Elise's eyes deepened, darkened with two slow blinks.
Uh-oh.
She dipped two fingers into the strawberry preserves. If she put those fingers in her mouth to taste again, he'd die. Right here. Right now. His obituary would read, "Toxic case of deadly testosterone overload."
He had to remember about keeping his distance. For her. And, yeah, for his own freaking sanity.
She placed her fingers … against his lips. "How about a palate cleanser?"
No mistaking her intent. And no way did he intend to die just yet.
Don't do it, Baker.
Too late.
His open mouth closed around her fingers. Mary Elise and sugar. Uh-huh. He was a dead man.>He passed her the bag of nails. "Do this with the other buckets while I fan out and work on the first line of protection. This will be our second ring of defense."
"I'm still not understanding."
"We'll dig holes around the cabin at the most logical places where someone might approach. Drop these inside, cover each hole with a layer of pine needles and leaves over thin twigs. When a foot goes in, it's not coming back out—at least not without a lengthy process and a lot of pain. Even if he works free before we get there, he'll be slowed from the injury."
We. Funny how one word could speed that tickle in her stomach. "Amazing."
"Untwisted bed springs work as spikes, too." He tore the duct tape with his teeth. A hank of hair fell over his brow, and he could have been the boy building a rocket out of his mama's Corning Ware.
She started to reach to brush aside his stray lock of hair.
He jammed the completed bucket trap in her hand as if he wanted space between them. "Here. You try now."
Why was he being so brusque? Hadn't he spent the past days trying to convince her to stay? Of course that was before he found out what she'd been hiding.
She would have known how to break the tension eleven years ago. Now she wasn't so certain.
Mary Elise hopped up to sit in the back of the SUV. She set to work on a second bucket while Daniel hefted out rope, fishing wire and a bag of electronics that looked as if they should have been gifts for the boys.
Wind rustled through the trees, shaking loose a shower of pine needles in the widening silence between them. Where had the guy gone who'd kissed her on the porch? She should be relieved. This Daniel offered fewer complications.
"Where did you learn all of this?"
"Survival training. Study. It's … wise to stay up-to-date." He kept his eyes off her and on the unloading. "There are countless options. Chinese Chopper, Cuban Water Trap, Sheepeaters' Rockfall. But we have to adapt to the situation and means available. The traditional pit takes forever to dig and then you've wasted time on one line of defense."
The reality of it all washed over her again. He was arming for battle when he should be swimming or breaking in the new Zelda game with the boys, prepping for Thanksgiving.
"We're going to use the Malaysian Hawk on the main path in. A log strung high, attached to a trip wire. On the two minor trails in, I'll string Jivaro Catapults using this."
He slid a canoe paddle out of the back. One swift move brought it down on his knee to snap off the handle. "The paddle will be fixed inside a twisted-tight rope tied to a tree limb. Foliage and moss is thick enough here to cover. A stick trigger sets this sucker to spin fast and hard enough to crack ribs. If he finds us before we can nail him with traditional evidence, we'll be ready."
That we word again. Strange how it stirred the same strange mix of hope and trepidation as the traps.